Improvements

After 2 1/2 months of XMRV treatment, I definitely feel better.  My need for rest has diminished quite a bit.  I still force myself to lie down twice a day, but I'm often antsy and peeking at the clock around the 20-minute marker.  I am sleeping less.  I don't seem to require 10 hours of sleep in order to feel good.  Often, I will wake at 6 am after 7-8 hours sleep, and I'll be unable to doze again. 

I feel uplifted, happy, almost exhilarated.  I find myself smiling a lot more.  It's like a weight, a fog has lifted from me.

I still have to be careful with activity.  I shopped WalMart the week before Easter.  It was way too big an outing for me; I should have started with something small, like a trip to the corner grocery store.  But I find that I'm chomping at the bit, eager to push the envelope just a little bit to see what happens.  Did I crash?  Um, yes, yes I did.  It was a big one, but it only lasted one day.  A crash like that would have normally taken me at least a week to recover from, if I indeed ever fully recovered.

I'm doing more around the house.  Not that much more, but noticeably.  It's interesting how I had unconsciously been conserving energy, calculating the most energy-efficient way to do anything.  I watched my husband put on his shoes one morning.  He picked one up, untied it, set it down, did the same with the other shoe.  Then he picked up the first shoe, put it on, and put on the other shoe.  I was amazed that he didn't realize that he was wasting so much energy by putting the shoe down and picking it up again.  I never would have done that!  Likewise, I always made a beeline for the nearest chair whenever I entered the room.  If the phone rang, I'd wait until one of the children handed it to me.

Yet, twice this week -- twice! -- I found myself pacing while talking on the phone.

The other thing that I've noticed is that I am tolerating social interactions much better. I've been out to dinner with my husband twice without any negative repercussions.  My sister-in-law dropped by and stayed a couple of hours.  I was exhausted, but it didn't cause a crash.  I can handle a drop-in visitor for about an hour now.  Talking on the phone is still challenging; I'm good for about 45 minutes of that.

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying creative pursuits with my writing, and I've started using essential oils for symptom relief.  I haven't been using them long enough to report anything, but so far I've found a couple that seem promising for pain and stomach problems.

Happy Mother's Day to all you Moms out there! 

Perspective

I believe that God led my husband to me.

Seriously.  The night we met, my husband had already had a date lined up.  But as the day progressed, he started feeling like he shouldn't go.  It was a persistent feeling; he thought maybe it was God trying to warn him that he'd get in an accident or something if he went.  Reluctantly, he called the young lady and canceled their date.  It was the first time he'd ever done something like that.

Now, with no plans for the evening, he had to scramble to find something to do.  Some of his friends were going to a church dance that night in Pacific Beach (San Diego).  They persuaded him to come with them.  He arrived late; it was after 11 o'clock.  He made the rounds, saying hi to the people he knew.  And then he saw me.

He knew the minute he saw me that I would be his wife.  He approached me and asked me to dance.  I said yes.  :)  We danced the rest of the night together.  He asked me for my number, and I wrote it on a gum wrapper and tucked it into his shirt pocket so he wouldn't lose it.

The first few dates we had, we talked like crazy.  He didn't even turn on the radio during the first few dates (and this is a man who loves music).  I had been planning on going up to Utah to go to BYU in a couple of months.  He decided he would quit his job and follow me up there.  I believe he would have followed me to the ends of the world, just to be with me.

It took him a mere three weeks to convince me to marry him.  I changed my plans, stayed home, and we were married December 10, twenty-two years ago.  Since that time, I would say that our marriage has fluctuated between really good and freaking amazing.

Why am I going through this story now?  Well, I have been participating in ItStartsWith.Us 's Love Bomb project.  Each week, I get an e-mail telling me of someone who is going through a hard time.  Then I, along with hundreds of other Love Bomb participants, drop by that person's blog and leave an encouraging comment.

This week, the person receiving these Love Bombs is a young woman who has been married for seven years.  She has two young children, and she is pregnant with her third.  And her beloved husband died just a few weeks ago in a hunting accident.

And suddenly, I'm thinking, I'm OK with CFS.  I don't mind it at all.  I wouldn't care if it continued to progress until I was in bed, like our dear friend Laurel, or until my eyesight failed, like our good friend Kerry.   I would only hope to face it with the courage and hope that they have.

And I'm OK with the financial troubles we've gotten ourselves into.  If we went bankrupt 60 times over, or ended up living in our van, I'd be OK with that.  And even if my kids get into trouble, struggle with drugs or teen pregnancy or failed grades or whatever, I can handle that.  Because I have my husband, that wonderful man who loves me enough to cross any ocean, climb any mountain, or stay by my side through any suffering I may endure.

Exciting News for Me

Many of you know that I started a website, Chronic Fatigue Community, about two years ago.  I spent a lot of time developing it, adding pages and articles about various topics related to CFS.  I was especially proud of the blog roll I had which included many of your blogs.  That list was the most visited page on my website, and it had the most repeat visits as well.

Well, my health deteriorated, and I was unable to keep adding to the site.  And although the site was a labor of love, and not expected to generate much income, I found that the annual $299 maintenance fee was too much for me.  So I made the decision to not renew it this year.

I just received an e-mail from the parent company, Site Sell.  They've made me a tremendous offer.  They want to reactivate the site and take over management of it.  They will monetize it and maybe add a few more articles to it and make it profitable.  They will split the proceeds with me 80/20 (I'd get 20% for doing nothing).  I have the option of renewing the website again at any time and taking it back over, keeping the benefits that they've added to the website.

They made the offer based on the website's content and potential.  They said they make an offer like this to only about 15% of the websites that choose not to renew.  I'm so excited that all that hard work won't go for naught, and that the information I've collected and shared will still be available to the public.  I'm also excited that the referrals to your blogs will still be accessible for people who are looking for support through the blog community.  If it ends up being profitable, well, it would be exciting to be able to add to the family's income for a change.

The site is www.chronic-fatigue-community.com .  It will still be down for awhile until they get it up and running again.

Faith and Hope

Sunday is a time of reflecting and renewal for me.  I loved this message, and I thought I would share it to all who embrace their challenges with faith.

Adjustments

How am I doing with my Daunting Things?  Hm, let's take a look...

1. Super-Walmart:  Sent my son.
2. School registration:  Sent my son.
3. Back to school shopping:  Ordered online for my younger boys; let my son take my girls shopping.
4. Visit from my sister:  Suck it up.  It was only three hours (ha!  only!), and I rested up tons the next day.
5. Carpooling: Still have three weeks before school starts.
6. Sleep over:  They ended up at their friend's house instead.
7. Tidying up:  Had my kids do it.
8. Taco salad:  Had my kids do it, with managing instructions from me.

Have I mentioned how much I love and appreciate my kids?  My son has been such a sweetheart, running all over for me now that he can drive.  And they loved learning how to make taco salad.  It helped that I called it "Chef School."  I love that my kids "get it" and do what they can to help our family adjust to my disease.

Lessons from Nemo

I love the movie "Finding Nemo."  I think it is one of those rare films that is not only darling and entertaining, but contains tons of hidden nuggets of wisdom.  While watching it the other day, one particular scene struck a chord with me.

After facing such obstacles as sharks, sea monsters, and jelly fish, Marlin and Dorie find themselves very near the end of their journey.  All they have to do is find Sydney, Australia.  Dorie gets the idea to ask for directions, and they end up being swallowed by a whale.

Inside the mouth of the whale, Marlin flings himself repeatedly against the unmoving baleen barrier between him and freedom.  Of course, it is essentially hitting his head against the wall, and he makes absolutely no progress.  Meanwhile, Dorie is riding the swells of water that carry her to and fro with unabashed glee.

Neither of them knows, at that moment, what the intentions of the whale are.  Neither knows what the outcome will be.  They could be safe, or they could be in grave danger.  They just can't know what will happen next until it happens.

Ultimately, the whale turns out to be a friend, and the ride in the whale's mouth is a shortcut to where they were trying to get all along.

I think everyone in life, at some point, finds himself swallowed by a whale.  You are going along just find, living your life in the direction of your choosing, when something unexpected happens.  You are thwarted.  Your life takes an unwanted detour.  Health issues, a lost job, relationship problems, a wayward child -- hey, I didn't ask for this!

I would never want to give up Marlin's determination.  But there is a lot to be said for Dorie's  abandonment, rolling with it, going with the flow, finding joy in a seemingly joyless situation.  I think you have to have a talent of forgetting, like she did.  You have to let go of the pain long enough to be happy.

I think that may be why people with faith find it easier to shoulder such burdens.  We know the whale; we know He is benevolent and good and only wants what's best for us.  I believe that at the end of the journey, we can look back and see that it was a shortcut, after all.  Maybe not a shortcut to where we wanted to go, but certainly a shortcut to whom we wanted to become.

Walking Through a Meadow

I feel so sorry for people without CFS.

That's right, I said it.  And I seriously mean it.

My husband took my boys camping last night for the Fathers and Sons event that our church does every year.  The boys are always excited about it.  They love spending time with their dad.  The girls and I, meanwhile, do a Girls Night Out.  Except this year they went out and brought it all home to me: Mexican food, smoothies, a movie, and Twizzlers.  We had a good time.

Well, it's barely past 9 am, and my husband came home with the boys!  What the...?  Apparently they got bored and wanted to come home.  My two youngest are already playing video games, and my oldest is in the shower.

Now, I remember camping as a kid.  It was not action packed all the time.  I loved sitting under the trees, listening to the birds, feeding squirrels and chipmunks, reading a book.  Sometimes we went for a hike or played a board game together.  Overall, it was pretty laid back.  And relaxing.  And soothing.  I loved it.

How sad that my guys couldn't decompress like that.  And suddenly, I thought -- I feel sorry for people without CFS.  They are always going, going, going, and they miss so much of life because of it.  It is like they are traveling by plane everywhere they go, but I am wandering slowly through a meadow.  Sure, they get farther and get more done.  But I see more beauty and find miraculous things along the way.

Signs

Signs I may be heading out of my relapse:


Thursday, I was able to shop AND cook dinner!  Go me!

I got my hair cut yesterday after EIGHT months!  I feel sassy.

My Life Is Different Now

I suppose that's an understatement.

My CFS was a slow onset case. I don't have a CFS anniversary per se. I have a vague idea that something changed around summer of 2006. And then the changes snowballed. I suppose we all take a look back from time to time and see where we were and where we are. My life is different now.

It has taken me a long time to figure out that different doesn't always mean better or worse. I didn't choose this path. I didn't choose this life. And yet, that doesn't mean that this new way of living doesn't have value.

I think about the fast pace I was living before I became sick. I think about the direction I was heading. As my children were growing older and less dependent, I was moving away from my family and more towards me. I was growing an interior decorating business that showed some promise. I was reaching out more to my friends, becoming more social. I spent a lot of time volunteering at church. I supported my kids in their activities by driving them and being there for sports, scouts, clubs, and school.

When CFS hit, it stripped me of all those activities that comprised my life. There was a void. There was a panic. I had to find a new way to live.

It's interesting to see the pieces I've chosen to include in my new life. I am now anchored here, in my home, in my family. Instead of interior decorating, I am writing. My husband and I snuggle on the couch watching our favorite TV shows instead of spending the evening with friends. My moments with my kids are one on one, face to face, instead of driving in a car or with me as a spectator. I work a lot harder on personal spirituality. I connect with friends here.

Not better. Not worse. Just different.

Once I recover from CFS, my life will change again. I hope I balance the best of both.

Feeling Happy

Thank you, Forgetful Girl, for nominating me for this prestigious and mood lifting award!

The rules:
1.)When you have received this award you must thank the person that awarded you this in the new post.
2.) Name 10 things that make you happy
3.) Pass this award onto other bloggers and inform the winners

So, without further ado, here are ten things, in no particular order, that make me happy.

1. The sound of my kids' laughter. I know I've mentioned this before, but there's just something about having a relaxed, easy feel in our home and hearing my kids' deep belly laughs that reassures me. I have felt how much CFS has handcuffed me as a parent, and it's good to know that they aren't that screwed up by it.

2. Making love to my husband, in all its various forms.

3. The beach. I have so many, thousands, of memories surrounding the beach, and all of them are perfect happiness.

4. Roasted marshmallows. My dad taught me how to make the perfect roasted marshmallow: finding the best coals, turning it around just right so it never catches on fire, ending up with a beautiful marshmallow brown and bubbly and crispy on the outside and a delicious gooey mess on the inside.

5. Sticky rice and mango. My husband and I went to a Thai restaurant for the first time on our 10th anniversary (many moons ago). We were stuffed, but the waitress was insistent to the point of rudeness that we try this dessert. It was pure heaven! It has never tasted quite as wonderful since, but I enjoy the quest to find that perfection again.

6. Wildflowers. Such surprising color in the most unlikely of places.

7. Reading. I almost said "reading a good book," but the bad ones are almost as fun, too!

8. Writing a scene and capturing the perfect emotion. The rest of writing can be torture, but getting something just right is exhilarating.

9. Sunshine and blue skies. There's a reason I live in Southern California! I can't stand the gray blah of winter elsewhere. Don't get me wrong, I know the snow is really pretty... the first day. It just gets old fast.

10. Learning. It is my safety blanket and muse. The first thing I did when I suspected I had CFS was research everything I could. It was comforting to me, giving me a (perhaps false) sense of control. I also love that "aha!" moment when something clicks and makes sense. For example, I just learned that the reason I hated The Lord of the Rings was because I'm not a milieu person. Go figure!

I could go on -- and I will, just one more thing. My blogger friends make me happy. I couldn't survive this illness without you. You inspire me, give me hope, teach me, and amaze me. There is so much strength and compassion in this community, and I lean on you more than you know.

I'm going to pass this award on to a few people new to our blog community that I've recently discovered.

Alison at blog Wormwood
Lee Lee at CFS 'n' gay
Chris at sickandtired
Alex at Life with ME/CFS (aka the Cabbage Stalk)

Learning to Dance in the Rain

Click here:

Learning to Dance in the Rain

How I dance in the rain:

I lie in bed listening to my boys play and giggle.
I curl up on the couch and watch my favorite shows with my husband.
I read good books.
I connect with and gain strength from you.
I eat my lunch outside when it's sunny so I can feel the sun on my face.
I hug my kids a lot.
I find funny things to laugh at.
I welcome people who come to visit.
I play World of Warcraft.
I keep an emergency supply of chocolate.

How do you dance in the rain?

Tender Mercies

I came across this on Facebook today. I think there are some of us struggling lately who may want a little comfort. Although it is from my religion, LDS, it is a universally Christian message. I hope you don't mind my sharing it.

Inch by Inch

I think ... do I dare say it aloud? ... that I may be getting better! It's that ephemeral something that I can't quite put my finger on. I wouldn't say that my capacity has increased. It's just that, during the day I feel a little lighter, a little clearer, a little more present. My body is making more sense. When I've exerted myself, I feel worn out, and my rests are a little longer than usual. If I've had a quiet day, I don't feel like resting at all (see my last post!), and I have to force myself to stay in bed for half an hour. A few moments of activity aren't weighing me down for days; I actually feel like I'm bouncing back quicker.

Now, when I say bounce back, I mean back to my new normal. I'm still nowhere near where I was before the summer. However, I no longer feel like one of those rock climbers stuck on a cliff with nowhere to go, fearful that if I move I'll slide further down or even plummet to my death. I'm reaching, and I can see tiny handholds, and there is a slow, steady path ahead of me.

Past Fear and Frustration

I'm not happy with my many negative posts lately, but I understand where they are coming from.

You see, I thought CFS and I had an understanding. I play by the rules most of the time. Then, if something big or important comes along, I cheat! There is a mild punishment afterward, where I am immediately contrite and rest up for a day or two. CFS forgives me, and I'm back to "normal" within the confines of the rules.

And then CFS betrayed me. Or, perhaps it was the last straw. In any case, it stopped forgiving me, and left me sitting in the corner for a very, very long time. No amount of crying or whining has softened its heart and made it relent.

Thanks to Renee's recent post, I am now coming to terms with the fact that I am in a relapse, not a crash. I don't know how long it is going to last. I just know that this is my new "normal," and it's time to adjust my life accordingly.

If I look at it objectively, I can see what happened. Stress is the trigger for my disease. I can see how the unrelenting stress over the summer caused me to fall further down the slope. It terrified me, because I thought, what if I have another episode? What if I fall further? There isn't that much further to go. The next bout will send me to bed with severe CFS for sure.

Well, if that happens, there will be people to take care of me and my family. It is what it is, right? But I can't let fear rob me of hope. I need to continue to tackle this disease the same way I always have, and trust that I will eventually see improvement. Inch by bloody inch, that is.

So, I'm going to change my attitude! I will wake in the morning and force myself to physically smile. They say the physical act of smiling triggers endorphins. I could use some endorphins. I'm going to focus on gratitude, because I have so, so much to be grateful for! Of all the things that CFS has stripped me of, it has taken nothing from me of any real importance. I am loved. I am happy.

Some good news: I don't have to work at all the next three weeks! That should allow me to stick to a routine and consistently stay within my energy envelope. It this experiment is successful, I may not have to go back to work at all. :)

The Antidote

Hope: v. to wish for something with expectation of its fulfillment; to look forward to with confidence and expectation; to expect and desire; n. a wish or desire accompanied by confident expectation of its fulfillment; something that is hoped for or desired; one that is a source of or reason to hope.

Hope is a dangerous thing. It builds expectations. It shines the light on the past as a titillating promise of the future. It paints tomorrow in such lovely colors. And invariably, if you give it too much attention, it disappoints.

I haven't given up hope. On the contrary, I honestly believe that I will see miracles, that researchers will find a cure, that I will someday be free from CFS. But, I think it is safest for me to keep hope tucked away in my back pocket -- always there, but never consciously acknowledged or relied upon.

Love is the true antidote to despair. A note that says "I miss you." A gift left at the door. An unexpected visitor who can only stay a minute. Words of encouragement, reminding me I'm not alone. Little acts of kindness. Hugs and kisses and that spot right under my husband's arm where I fit perfectly as we watch TV on the couch. These are the things that calm my troubled heart, bring peace to my soul, and remind me that this life ... this life ... is worth living.

Being Thankful

Well, I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm afraid I've been in survivor mode lately, curled up in a figurative (and sometimes literal) fetal position. But I couldn't let Thanksgiving pass without a comment!

I love the fact that Thanksgiving comes before Christmas. Pondering the many things I'm grateful for puts me in the right frame of mind to enjoy the true spirit of Christmas. You may think that CFS has made it a little more difficult for me to be thankful, but it's really not true. If anything, it has made it easier.

CFS has given me many small blessings and one great gift. I have, throughout my life, had great burdens that I carry. Because of my faith, I do not fear death -- in fact, I have often yearned for it. I've thought how wonderful it would be to leave behind the pain and suffering of this life and return home to my Father and my Savior. At times, the only thing that has kept me here is the feeling of six pairs of small hands and one pair of large, gentle hands holding onto me like many balls and chains. Oh, I've wanted to go! But what would happen to them? I've begrudgingly stayed.

The onset of CFS has taken life away from me, little by little. And I've come to realize -- how could I have taken so much for granted? Every little morsel I can enjoy now is so sweet to me. There are a million tiny moments full of life that I never paid attention to before. A hug from my tween, a kiss on the top of my head from my big boy, cuddling on the couch with my husband, stepping outside to a warm, clear, star-filled night, waking up to blue skies and warmth, a thank you from my big girl at college, my boys climbing into bed with me, the little ways they all try to make life easier, better, happier for me.

I believe that this will someday be over. One day, I will no longer have CFS. I'll be able to engage more in life and her bountiful activities. I will be careful in what I choose to do with my precious energy. I will not waste it on things that do not bring me joy. I will not clutter my life with the unimportant. I will savor the moments. I will stay as long as God allows, and when He finally calls me home, I will leave this life with one last, fond glance over my shoulder at this beautiful adventure.

People's Health Blogger Awards

While visiting Sue's blog today, I noticed that she is up for a People's Health Blogger Award. I decided to vote for her, and I am putting a "Vote for Sue" widget on my sidebar. Sue's blog is one of the first I found when I discovered I had CFS and started blogging about it. I was so new and lacking in knowledge when it comes to this disease! Sue was always there to open my eyes and show me different paths to understanding just what was going on with me. It was from her that I learned about post-exertional malaise, orthostatic intolerance, and LDN. And she seemed a "success" story. Even though she still has CFS, she seems to manage it so well, and she still has a life! That is what I aspire to. So, in a way, I would say Sue has been my CFS mentor, and she has become a very understanding friend. I wish her the best of luck!

Good News

A couple of good news tidbits:

First, I finished the September issue of my Fatigue Busters newsletter and sent it out! That had been hanging over my head for a week.

Second, I am feeling infinitesimally better! I have to warn myself that I am not back to baseline yet, so I need to ease into it gently. I have these bursts of energy and just want to DO something!

Third, my blog AND my website have both been listed on Worldwide Association for ME/CFS Awareness and Research (WAMCARE)'s website!

http://www.wamcare.org/websites.html
http://www.wamcare.org/bloggers.html

Many of you are listed on the bloggers list, as well! Congratulations!

Catharsis

Ah, as you all know, I have been in the middle of a nasty crash for some time now. It has, quite frankly, scared me. I had been used to bouncing back rather easily from stress-related and exertion-related mini crashes. I expected the same from this one... but it didn't exactly go that way. So, relying on many of your own experiences and suggestions, today I did a little personal exploring.

I sat down to write about my current stresses to confront the emotions surrounding them. There are several swirling around my psyche these days -- back to school, soccer for the boys, a new school for my struggling son, the economy and our new business, a messy house. But as soon as I started writing, the only thing that my pen would allow to find its way to paper was my daughter who is now off to college.

I am happy for her. I am proud of the young lady I have raised. I feel she is ready for this next step in her life. I know she will excel. I know she is in a good place. I am excited to see where she takes this adventure and who she chooses to become. I love her so much.

Then, the image that came to my mind was not my teenager who just left home, but my baby as I first held her in my arms. I thought about our special relationship as she grew to be a toddler. I remember our wonderful friendship and how everything about her was delightful to me. I loved being a mom! I caught myself thinking, "I've never been happier than during those early days of motherhood."

I broadened the picture in my mind and thought about what was going on in my life back then, and I realized it was not an easy time for me. It wasn't the bliss I was painting it to be. I, like many others with CFS, had been abused as a child. Having a child of my own brought up suppressed emotions, and I began dealing with the issue for the first time ever. It was beyond painful -- it was excruciating. There were times when I thought I would lose myself in the pain of it all and just stop being. My husband was remarkable, loving, and supportive ... but it was in the love of my little girl that I found solace and relief. Holding her, loving her, having her love me back unconditionally -- it gave me a reason to live when I really didn't want to anymore.

I realize how much I have relied on her over the years. When I went through a horrible depression, she took on extra responsibilities to help around the house, even though she was only 8 years old. She has always been able to reason with her brothers and sisters to restore peace in our home. She treated her brothers and sisters like friends, inviting the younger girls into her room for "sleep overs" and including her younger brother in her own circle of friends. Since I've had CFS, she has helped rally the kids to do their chores when I was too exhausted to nag any longer, and she has run numerous errands for me in her car.

I realized that my reaction to her leaving home hasn't been fear for her, but rather fear for me. Even though I am years into the healing process, it terrifies me to think that IT might rear its ugly head again, and she won't be here. It feels like someone took away my security blanket in the middle of the night while I'm still afraid of the dark.

I'm not that little girl anymore. I'm a grown up, and grown ups don't need their children to take care of them (at least for another 30 years or more, I hope!). It's time to start using my adult coping skills and let my girl go.

As I write, there is a storm brewing outside. A fierce wind is blowing leaves and debris into the roads, and the temperature has dipped 20 degrees. Instead of smelling the smoke from the recent fires, I smell the fragrance from the flowers in my yard that have been disturbed by the upheaval and dust mixed with a trace of moisture. The clouds are dark and enigmatic, moving closer. There's a crackle on the radio that tells me lightning has started nearby, and I hear distant thunder. I love this weather! It sweeps away the heavy 100+ degree F days that have been lingering too long. Everything is fresh and new. It mirrors my soul.

Deer in the Headlights

I saw it coming. I really did. But there was nothing I could do about it.

Last week was about as bad as a week can get! Busy and stressful -- not a good combination. The a/c went out, and it took the repairman four days and two visits to fix it. We had pest control spray our house inside and out, forcing us to leave home for a couple of hours. My teenage son stepped on a stick on Father's Day, and it has been infected ever since. We had a couple of lengthy doctor's visits, as well as a couple of trips to get x-rays. It is not healing well, and my doctor informed me that he may require surgery. We don't have insurance right now, since we started our own business, and the cost would be about $10,000. Yikes! My daughter was in her first accident the other day (not her fault!) which meant I've been helping her with insurance adjusters and auto mechanics. My husband thought it would help me if we could get away, so we got a hotel on Friday. The bed was atrocious, and I did not get hardly any sleep! He took me to see Harry Potter the next day, but a 2 1/2 hour movie is not something I tolerate very well these days. (I loved the movie, though! I've read all the books.) After, we walked the mall for a little while, looking for a blender. We had an early dinner that was nice, but I ended up skipping my afternoon rest. Sunday, I not only taught the lesson for our women's group, but I also gave a talk in the main meeting when the families are all together. Sometimes I can piggy back an extra activity on top of an already busy day, if I rest enough before and after. I had accepted the assignment well before I could have known what kind of week it would be!

And ... yesterday, I had a terrible crash! Of course, I knew it was coming. I'm surprised it didn't hit me earlier. I came home from church and headed straight to my room. My husband fixed me a delicious salad and sent it up to me. My youngest was so sweet, making sure I had enough to eat, filling my water bottle, offering to share his dessert. I was woozy and passing out; I developed a migraine that prescription strength ibuprofen didn't help; my muscles AND joints were aching all over. I slept, but just a little bit. My eyes were twitching so bad, I felt almost blind! I finally fell asleep for good at 11:30 pm, and I was out cold until 9 am.

And yet, today, I am rebounding pretty well! I am taking it super easy today, of course, but I'm out of bed. I was able to change my sheets (long needed!) and do a load of laundry. I can't believe I'm not worse off today.

Something is seriously getting better. I feel like the tortoise and the hare ... and the snail. I'm at the beginning of the race, but I really think there is a finish line somewhere down this road. Yesterday was awful, but I am feeling so full of hope right now.

By the way, I did a great job with both my talk and my lesson! ;) That may have been a little help from above!